Aleatory
by Avalonolava
Summary: A series of drabbles on the relationship of a rogue Marian Hawke and Varric Tethras.
1. Writing in Bed

"Hawke, sit still," Varric ordered, smoothing out the parchment before scribbling over a line in his writing.

"You try being a writing desk for a hour. If the quill doesn't tickle you, it will simply annoy you," came Marian's groggy reply.

The Champion was laying on her stomach, sprawled across Varric's surprisingly comfortable bed with nothing covering her but a sheet that only went far enough to cover her behind. Varric laid parallel to her, having placed various pieces of parchment around them, as well as one page on her back as he scrawled away.

"Next time you write an entry in that diary of yours, remind me to be your writing desk," Varric appeased.

"What's the point of keeping a diary now when you're writing down every adventure of mine?"

"Not every adventure," he amended. "Besides, you know how fond I am of exaggeration." He smirked at her sleepy expression.

"Oh, and what adventures have you omitted?" She asked, genuinely curious. She moved her hand to brush the unruly locks of hair that had fallen over her face while she had slept.

"Most of the walking, and, of course, anything that takes place within these walls." Varric paused in his writing to place a kiss on her back.

Marian giggled, and turned onto her side so she could better see him. "What? No stories of how a debonair dwarf stole the heart of the Champion of Kirwall?"

Varric moved his parchment aside, letting it fall into the pile that already littered the bed, and moved his attentions to connecting the freckles that spanned Marian's chest, side and back.

"That is a tale not even I could make people believe. I already amplify your accomplishments, if I add myself as the lover people will think I'm making the entire story up," Varric explained, giving himself leave to laugh at the idea of trying to persuade the drunkards in the Hanged Man that not only did Hawke defeat an Arishok in a duel, but that directly after the battle she ravished the Hanged Man's only consistent resident.

Marian sighed, but grinned at the scoundrel. "I suppose I wouldn't want to tarnish Bianca's name with such a tale." This earned her a deep chuckle from Varric.

"All she asks is that she remains the only lady the adorning public think I love," Varric teased, before moving his hand to Hawke's cheek.

She closed her eyes in appreciation of Varric's words and attentions, and Varric couldn't imagine a more beautiful sight. He made a mental note to write a detailed account of this moment, for their eyes only. He could never dream of sharing moments like these with anyone but Marian.


	2. Public Affection

"Cheat!" Anders growled, while Isabela giggled slyly.

"I don't need to cheat, sweet thing, I just know how to play," Isabela smirked, gathering the current pot for diamondback and dragging it to her end of the table.

Varric chuckled at the mage's misfortune. "Your face gives you away, Blondie. You need to work on concealing your expressions, or containing it to one expression, like Broody." Fenris didn't bother to look up at being mentioned, choosing to look continuously stern as he looked at his cards.

The table was filled with Hawke's band of misfits, even Aveline and Donnic had joined them. It was becoming a habit for the party to get together at the Hanged Man and piss all their money and worries away, and Hawke was pleased to see that it was making everyone get along better.

The Champion herself sat at Varric's immediate right, not daring to join in tonight's game. She was horrible at bullshitting, and thus terrible at cards. It was no matter, however for she always found ways to amuse herself while she watched everyone play. Sometimes she would entice the bard to play a Ferelden song and dance with other patrons of the tavern. It seemed to bring smiles to the other Ferelden refugees that had made a home of Kirkwall.

Tonight, however, she had her attention on the scoundrel of the table.

The round table the party sat around was high enough that most everyone's waists were hidden, excluding Isabela, who opted to sit with her boots on the surface. Hawke smirked, knowing very well that the pirate sat thus on purpose, though her attempts at distraction were wasted due to the high stakes of the match.

"You in for another round or not, Blondie?" Varric questioned, reshuffling the deck.

Anders sighed, but placed more silver on the table. "I'm in," he pouted.

Everyone stiffled giggles at the dejected demeanor Anders put off, knowing that despite loosing, he was having fun. The conversation took off from there as each player attempted to get the others to give away what cards they had.

Hawke propped an elbow up on the table and rested her chin on her palm, looking around at the players, while her other hand found its way to Varric's thigh and gave him an affectionate squeeze. Varric's expression didn't alter at the contact, but he did casually move one of his hands off the table to intertwine his hand with her's. Hawke gave a small smile, daring herself not to glance in the dwarf's direction lest everyone at the table start paying attention.

"Got a good hand, Hawke?" Isbela smirked.

Hawke flushed, having previously thought that everyone had their eyes elsewhere. "I'm not playing, Isabela," she asserted.

"I'd keep my eyes on my cards if I were you, Rivani," Varric advised and, as if to prove a point, kept his gaze firmly on his cards. Isabela hummed appreciatively in response, smirking as she fingered her cards.

After a few more minutes of contemplative silence, Fenris called Isabela a liar when she attempted to play a card. It didn't take long after that for the round to become more "verbally expressive", as Merill liked to say.

And with such obvious distractions, Varric couldn't help but take advantage. He had let go of Hawke's hand and moved his own to her lower back, earning himself a side-eyed glare. Hawke didn't like these covert games Varric was so keen on playing. In an attempt to shake him away, she stretched in what she hoped was a casual manner. None of her party gave her a second look; they were too busy watching Anders argue with Isabela.

However, the only thing Hawke's stretch accomplished was allowing Varric's hand to slip under the hem of her shirt, where he was dutifully rubbing circles into her skin. She shivered at the contact, and looked directly at him with an expression of exasperation.

"Something wrong Hawke?" He baited.

"Have a care where you hand wanders, Varric," she warned quietly.

"Uncomfortable, dear?" He continued to tease.

"Varric."

Her voice suddenly reminded him of Aveline's reprimanding tone and he laughed outright.

"Oh, come here Hawke," Varric cajoled, sliding his hand around her waist and pulling her as close to him as their respective chairs would allow.

Hawke couldn't suppress her grin, so she allowed herself the joy of public affection and stole herself a kiss from the dwarf.

"And there it is, ladies and gentlemen! The long awaited kiss between the Champion and her lover!" Isabella announced, throwing her hands in the air. Donnic gave a low shout of a approval, as Aveline hit his shoulder.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to see that," Isabela said. "Now, I think someone owes me some coin." She grinned, turning her gaze to Aveline, who in turn gave a large sigh.


	3. Waffles

The delightful aroma of food woke Hawke from her deep slumber. As she opened her eyes, she stretched across the bed, humming appreciatively as her muscles tightened and loosened at her actions.

"Ah, you're finally awake," came Varric's voice. He sat at the table, a letter in one hand, and a piece of food in the other.

Hawke sat up, smiling at her lover as he rose from his seat, grabbed one of the plates of food and walked over to her. Varric had gotten dressed, much to the disappointment of Hawke, but threw off his jacket when he settled onto the bed next to her.

"How are you this fine morning?" Hawke asked, tucking the blanket around herself so it would not fall away from her chest.

"Indescribable," Varric quipped. "And you, Champion?"

Hawke scoffed, scrunching her nose in dislike. "Varric, you know I don't like it when you call me that in bed."

He grinned and held out the plate in front of her. "Would this change your mind?" He asked.

Hawke smiled, eyeing the plate hungrily. "You made me waffles?"

"Well, technically Norah made the waffles. However, I did bring them to you in bed. That has to count for something." He grabbed the fork and tore of a piece of the waffle to offer to Hawke.

She hummed as she chewed. "Norah has outdone herself."

"I'll tell her you said so," Varric said with a smile, before placing a kiss on the corner of Hawke's mouth.

* * *

"Varric," Isabela purred.

"Yes, Rivaini?" Varric kept his eyes on the path in front of him. He, Isabela, Aveline and Hawke were making their nightly rounds through Kirkwall. Or rather Hawke's and Aveline's nightly rounds. Varric didn't mind roughing up the mercenary rats that prowled the alleys, but Hawke's determination to keep the city that treated her poorly, up until she saved them all, safe was admirable.

"I couldn't help but overhear your new nickname for Hawke." Isabela's tone had its usual mirth to it, and Varric had a feeling that Isabela was waiting for an opportunity to say her share of dirty jokes pertaining to Hawke's nickname.

"And?"

"_And, _I am curious as where "Waffles" came from."

Hawke laughed, having heard Isabela's query, but did not turn around as she and Aveline led the party.

"Isn't it obvious?"Varric questioned. "She-"

"Wait, wait. Let me guess," Isabela interrupted. "She likes to be covered in syrup," she suggested slyly.

"And here I thought my deepest darkest sexual desires would be kept between us, Varric," Hawke jested.

"Sincere apologies, Waffles. Rivaini is just too clever for her own good." Varric chuckled.

"So now _I'm_ the only one without a nickname?" Aveline asked, outraged.

"I've given you plenty of nicknames!" Isabela corrected, earning her a dark glare from the red head.

"You didn't like the nickname I gave you," Varric reminded her.

"And I'm sure in that brain of yours you can find a better one." Aveline's tone was almost threatening.

Varric chuckled. "I'll keep searching my brilliant mind for a better one."


End file.
